Appreciating the lessons of our wonderful WWII veterans | Rebecca Whitfield-Baker

Rebecca Whitfield-Baker spent her week talking to SA’s surviving WWII veterans. “I’ve been fed Tim Tams and served hot cuppas. I have laughed, cried, been inspired and awed.”

Over the past week I have had the privilege of meeting remarkable World War II veterans who’ve graciously given their time to share a small insight into a world that is, for most of us, unimaginable.

I’ve been fed Tim Tams and served hot cuppas. I have laughed, I have cried. I have shaken my head in disbelief. I have been inspired and awed. I have been moved by their selflessness; the respect and gratitude they show, more than 80 years on, for their war mates and fallen comrades.

Each of the incredible, warm and engaging individuals has reached the ripe old age of 100 – the eldest will turn 107 in December – which, in itself, is worthy of celebration.

I’ve been given a window into the mischievous, bright-eyed young men they once were – and vibrant, full-of-life characters they remain.

Read Rebecca’s stories on the veterans

■ COLIN WAGENER: SA’s oldest veteran is 106 years old and sharp as a tack

■ ANGUS HUGHES & LYALL ELLERS: Two RAAF airmen, one of whom was captured by the Nazis

■ HARVEY BROWN, DUDLEY ROBERTS, REG SWANBOROUGH: Three men who signed up as teens and served around the globe

As they’ve quietly and stoically told me their stories, I’ve instinctively thought of my own sons, now 17 and 19, with emotion welling inside as I picture them, their beautiful friends or sporting teammates in that situation. I simply can’t go there.

A case in point when talking to gently-spoken Angus Hughes, 100, who is believed to be SA’s last surviving German prisoner of war. He was captured just before his 21st birthday after his Lancaster bomber was shot down.

One of his six crewmen failed to parachute from the plane, four others were captured on reaching the ground. For three days the lone young escapee tried to make it across the Rhine River to safety in Switzerland, before he was caught and taken to a German prison and interrogated en route to the POW camp.

Angus Hughes, 100, is believed to be SA's last surviving prisoner of war. Picture: RoyVPhotography

Later he would be forced to march more than 200km over 21 days in the freezing cold conditions of Europe in winter, through snow and sleet. It is unfathomable to imagine; scared, alone and so far from home. Someone else’s precious son. (It took all my resolve not to reach out and wrap the poor man sitting opposite me in a massive, mum-like hug!)

But mostly I am touched by his gentleness, resilience and resolve, left in awe at the brave young man I visualise as he speaks.

“It was just a matter of living, that was all … I was just trying to keep alive, that was it … it’s surprising how old a few years like that make you,” he says.

World War II veteran Harvey Brown, 100, will march on Anzac Day. Picture: Brenton Edwards

I am no history buff. In talking to each of these gentlemen I realise how much I don’t know – and how important it is that we never forget the terrible sacrifices made, nor the reality of war.

I reflect on my own grandfather who fought in WWI and desperately wish I’d understood just a little bit of what he’d been through, as I sat as a little person on his office floor rolling his cigarettes for him.

I think of my own late dear Dad who felt blessed to have been born when he did, in 1937, too young for WWII and too old for Vietnam, and finally appreciate his words.

I leave my meetings with each of the men, grateful for the life I now have and determined to try and live it just a little bit better for having met them – and to hug my boys tightly any time they’ll let me.